Coffee at Douce in Piazza Matteotti, Genova.
Or perhaps I am generally missing good coffee. Even the highway autogrills do good coffee in Italy.
I am missing green beans, lightly cooked. Tomatoes from Il Bio di Soziglia. And adding the best riccotta from Le Gramole Olioteca to that mix. Missing Francesca and Norma too.
Then I miss the possibility of eating Ravioli fatti in casa al “tuccu” di carne at Roberto's place, Il Genovese because Tuccu is the most divine sauce ever invented ... any place here on this earth.
I miss Stefano's restaurant because there are always stunning surprises in store when you eat and drink there.
I miss the possibility of hearing Donatella singing and Luciano play there. I am learning to miss Donatella's fried squash flowers too. They were divine that night she took Helen and I home and cooked for us.
I miss Barbara and Alessandra. I most definitely miss Stefano. I miss Lorenzo.
I miss the 'ciao's' that I hear in the street. I miss Pino & Silvana, and their divine pizzas.
I miss Boccadasse and my seat up on the hill, I miss Outi, Paula and Paola. There is Davide, Federico, and Leah, and so many others.
I'm thinking now ... perhaps it all adds up to the fact that I'm simply missing Genova. And forgive me if your name isn't here because I'm sure to be missing you too :-)
Yes.
Below, a photograph of Luciano playing bass guitar (really, he is), taken at a performance he and Donatella gave recently.
